Another Time, Another Place
by newyork24-7
Summary: When a fight with a Demon takes an unexpected turn, Buffy has the opportunity to experience a different life.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is my very first Buffy fic but I thought I'd give it a whirl.**

**I admit that this first chapter will seem very short and it doesn't give away a lot, but there is an overall plot and plan.**

**The rating will go up eventually as well.**

* * *

"Hang on, Dawn, almost there," Buffy yelled, grunting slightly as she swung her leg round and sent the demon flying, staking them quickly before throwing it over to Xander who was only just managing to field off another by throwing wild punches.

"Thanks," he called out , delivering a sharp stab to the demon's chest, watching it dust with grim satisfaction. He looked up and remarked blandly, "Does anyone else feel like we've been here before?"

"Xander, behind you!"

He threw back his left arm and knocked his would be attacker flying. "Thanks, Will. But seriously, did Glory put out a memo?" He threw up his hands and waggled his fingers in emphasis. "I've found the key, the thing that can open the portal between dimensions, come and get it!"

"Now is not the time," Buffy snapped as she struggled to surge forward against yet more demonic minions. She couldn't help but roll her eyes, what was the obsession Demon Overlords had with having minions? "Although," she called out as an afterthought. "Glory was a God, this guy's just an over-confident pain in my ass."

Fidgeting against the ropes that bound her, Dawn called out calmly, "Could you hurry up, my wrists are starting to chafe." She looked up to see a rather large, hooded Demon approach her, glistening knife clenched in his gnarled hand and her eyes widened. Looking to the side she yelled again, "Actually I really mean it now, get a move on you guys!"

"It is too late," Jabor hissed, his forked tongue flickering momentarily out of his mouth. "It is time." He brought his knife up and trailed it down Dawn's cheek. "But I do not mean to hurt you, you are simply a means to an end." His hand reached into his robe and pulled out a small gold talisman. "I need only a drop and then I am free. Free of the constraints of this world where mortals rule.

"Buffy!" Dawn screamed, as the sharp tip of the knife dragged down her cheek, slicing her skin and leaving a trail of burning pain behind it.

All three of the Scoobies turned their heads, and broke into a desperate run, the minion Demons falling to the side now, dropping to their knees and muttering.

"Not very encouraging," Willow remarked as they sped to the top of the slope.

The first drop of blood hit the dull metal of the talisman and it began to glow green, shaking within his hand as he hissed his triumph. The wind picked up suddenly, howling and raging around them. "It is done!" He cried in triumph. "I have prevailed!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Buffy corrected him as she sent her fist into his face, causing his body to jerk, the talisman soaring out of his hand. "Jackass," she spat out as an afterthought.

"What have you done?" He wailed glancing wildly around for his treasure.

"Kicked your ass," she informed him as Xander and Willow untied Dawn. "And FYI you're awfully whiney for a supposed Lord of Darkness."

He ignored her, his eyes landing on the glowing object only a few feet away. He scrambled inelegantly to his feet, reaching for it desperately. Buffy sighed, and rolling her eyes, kicked him away from it, hard. "I said no," she barked as he went flying backwards down the slope.

She leaned and picked it up, her look of annoyance turning into a frown of concern as it continued to shake, rays of light beginning to shine out of it. "Guys, we still have a problem."

They rushed over to her, with Xander remarking, "We have more than one."

Buffy looked up just in time to see Jabor slam back into her again, his fingers closing on the talisman just as a flash of light encased them all. Her stomach lurched and rolled as everything went dark and the screams of her friends echoed in her ears. She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to vomit. Maybe this was it this time, maybe she would finally find peace, find her way back to heaven.

Unthinkingly she thought of him, she wondered if he'd be there, if he'd redeemed himself enough to earn entrance. Probably not. She wished she could see him again, wished there was a way. And just as that thought escaped her, her body slammed into the ground, and the screaming stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter should start to make it pretty obvious what direction the story is going in.**

**I'd love to hear some opinions on this :)**

* * *

Groaning, Buffy pressed her hands against the floor, checking that she was definitely on solid ground before she lifted her head. She felt like one giant bruise. Jabor, she thought suddenly, he had been zapped with them and he had the talisman.

Looking up she saw him, only a few metres away from her, but already on his feet. He grinned at her, his lips curling around his pointed teeth as he told her, "I win, Slayer."

"No," she protested, struggling to get to her feet, something heavy catching around her ankles, slowing her down. The light encompassed him again, wrapping around him, seemingly dissolving him before her very eyes. She lunged, but she was too late, her hands swiping through thin air as she fell flat on her face once more. "Ow," she mumbled into the carpet. "And damnit!"

Rolling onto her back, Buffy lifted her head and looked down at herself to check what had stopped her from catching him, her face settling into a look of confusion when she saw it. It was a dress, or more specifically her dress that had caused the problem. Her fingers bunched in the heavy swath of material as she stared at it, it looked like something out of a period drama and seemed to encase her from neck to ankles. Where the hell had her cargos gone?"

"Damnit what?" Came a muffled question from her right.

"Jabor's gone," she replied, turning her head to see Xander staring at her, his two eyes blinking at her dazedly. "Two eyes," she thought aloud in a quiet murmur.

Xander's head tilted quizzically. "Yeah, human's tend to have them, but if we've lost Jabor then I don't think that's our biggest problem."

She shook her head. "No, I mean you have two eyes."

He brought up his hands, his fingers gingerly prodding at his features before a wide grin spread across his face. "Hey, so I do. Thought my vision was a bit wider, wow, wonder how that...What are you wearing?" He asked suddenly.

"A dress, and anyway I could say the same about you." Her eyes belatedly flickered up and down his prone form. "You're wearing a waistcoat," she told him blandly.

His eyes registered surprise as he glanced down at himself while simultaneously pulling himself into a sitting position. "Yeah, but I'm sure I look very dapper. While you look...odd, especially with that hair."

"Hey!" Buffy protested as she pressed her hand against what felt like a very elaborate up do. "I'm sure I look fine, just a little unlike myself."

"Well," he continued as he craned his neck over his shoulder. "You're not the only one dressed up to the nines."

Pressing herself up on her elbows, Buffy peered over his shoulder to see both Dawn and Willow stirring, both of them in a similar garb to her. She gave a small sigh, where the hell were they? Getting slowly to her feet, Buffy surveyed the room they had landed in. It was a large sitting room, decorated in a rather old fashioned style, one that rather suited their clothing. "I think we might have went back in time," she informed the group.

"We couldn't have," Willow cut in, rubbing her head as she blinked up at the ceiling. "The talisman of Aurasis doesn't specialise in time travel, it's used to move between dimensions, that's why Jabor needed Dawn."

"Dawn!" Buffy moved as quickly as her dress would allow her, crossing the room to her sister. "Dawn are you ok?"

"Just peachy," she replied on a grimace. "Apart from the fact that I feel like I've gone twenty rounds in the ring with a sumo wrestler and I now have what will no doubt be a fetching scar down the middle of my face."

Tilting her head gently, Buffy examined her sister's cheek. "There's no sign of any cut, so I'm guessing that they'll be no scar."

"Really!" Dawn exclaimed happily. "I might regret saying this in a few minutes but so far I like this dimension."

"Yeah, let's not count our chickens just yet," Buffy warned her. "So how can you be so sure that the talisman hasn't backfired and sent us back rather than to another place? I mean it does look more past like than other wordly," she stated, turning her attention back to Willow.

"Well ignoring the fact I've already said that it just can't do that," she started, giving Buffy a meaningful look. "If we'd went back rather than...well across for lack of a better word, we would have arrived looking exactly how we looked when we left our time. So Xander would be sporting his pirate look and Dawn would be-"

"Bleeding over the carpet like a stuck pig," Dawn supplied cheerfully.

Willow couldn't help but grin at that. "I would have put it slightly more pleasantly but yeah, pretty much. We wouldn't turn up dressed for the part. I think that we must exist in this dimension, and so we have arrived in the forms we would take here."

"Ok," Xander drawled. "So if we exist here, what happened to the us who were here before we arrived?"

Dawn muttered the sentence to herself, the small frown on her face morphing into a smile as she made as much sense out of the statement as she could. "Yeah," she added with a short nod. "Shouldn't there be two of each of us?"

Willow gave a shrug. "I'm not sure, but it would look as though two of the same people can't exist on the one dimensional plane. Which might explain why Jabor isn't here, he also exists here and is currently residing in his form."

"Uh..." Buffy cut in awkwardly. "About that."

"He got away," Xander supplied blandly. "So he was here, but unlike us he managed to make a break for it."

Willow bit down on her bottom lip. "Please tell me that he didn't make this break with the talisman."

"I really wish I could," Buffy replied. "But I'm not used to this get up and I kind of tripped," she admitted. "Which really just confirms that Demon hunting has a casual only kind of dress code. We can go after him though."

"No, no we can't," Willow told her, sitting upright and hugging her knees to her chest. "He could be anywhere, in any possible dimension, so finding him would be a logistical nightmare, not to mention that we don't have any way of travelling out of here." She looked up and met Buffy's eyes as she added, "At all."

"Wait, not even to get home?" Dawn asked quietly.

"Not even that."

The room fell silent as they took a moment to stare at their new surroundings. "So where are we?" Dawn finally asked.

Buffy lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "I have no clue," she admitted. "Although it's not the most comfortable place," she added, pressing her hands against her rigid waist. "I think I'm wearing a corset, at least I hope I am or in this world my middle is lined with metal."

"No, it's a corset," Willow confirmed. "I've got one on too."

"And I don't," Xander supplied helpfully. "So we can rule out being part robots. Good news all round, you know, apart from the fact that we have absolutely no way of getting home."

"Do you think people will notice we're gone?" Dawn asked.

"I don't know," Willow admitted. She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. "If they do then Kennedy will be going out of her mind." She got forcibly to her feet. "I need to find a way back to her."

Xander and Buffy exchanged a look, there was no-one waiting for them, no-one to miss them, those people were long gone, lost to them entirely. "We'll find a way," Buffy finally told her. "We always find a way." She let out a soft sigh. "But first things first we need to find out what kind of world we're in."

There was a knock against the heavy oak door, and the group all whirled to face it, eyes wide as it opened all a quiet creak to reveal a rather stiff looking gentlemen, who ducked his head respectfully towards Xander. He was in his fifties, his hair sleeked back, his suit neat and shoes immaculately polished. When he spoke his words were in a clipped, English accent. "I am sorry to disturb you, Sir." His eyes slid over the rest of the group, pausing momentarily on Dawn who was still sprawled out inelegantly on the floor as he continued, "But you wished to be informed of any post, and this arrived only a few moments ago." He held out the neat white envelope clasped in the grasp of his pristine white gloves.

Looking unsurely at Buffy for a moment, Xander reached out for the proffered letter, ripping it open, ignoring the wince of their guest as the envelope fluttered to the floor. "It's an invitation to a dinner Lord Cranbourne's house tonight."

The older man's face cleared and his back straightened, his chest puffing out. "That is good news, Mr Harris, exactly what you wanted. Shall I alert the rest of the staff that apart from Miss Dawn you shall all be dining out this evening?"

"Um," He glanced wildly over his shoulder at his friends. "Yes, yes that sounds about right."

Dawn's face crumpled. "Hey! How come I don't get to go?"

The man's expression softened. "It won't be long before you come out into Society, Miss, and then you shall dazzle them all, I am sure. But that time isn't yet. I shall have Mrs Riles prepare your favourite for dinner, as way of a treat."

Dawn blinked, puzzled for a moment before she gave him a wide smile. "Well I suppose that I can live with that. As long as there's dessert."

He gave a nod. "I shall ensure it." He turned and gave a small half smile to the rest of them. "Is there anything else you require?"

"Yes," Buffy cut in quickly. "It's foolish of us but we all seem to have...ah...misplaced today's date, perhaps you can enlighten us."

"It is the 1st of May and the year is 1880," he replied. "Are you feeling quite well, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Perfectly," she replied, slightly stunned as she sat down on one of the small chaise lounges that were placed artfully about the room.

"And where exactly are we?" Willow asked artlessly. "And who are you?"

"I don't think I quite understand," he spluttered, looking quite alarmed by this turn of events.

Xander shot Willow a quick glare before letting out a nervous laugh. "She's playing a game," he told the rather worried man.

"Ah, I take it this is a very popular game in the Americas."

"It is," Xander replied, jumping on that explanation quickly. "So...we're not in America."

"No, Sir, we're in London, and I am Davies, your Butler of the last ten months." He tilted his head and added meaningfully, "Ever since yourself and your wards moved here."

"Of course, of course," Xander got out in a slightly choked voice, before trying to give another laugh. "Looks like you've won the game."

"I'm delighted, Sir," he remarked, sounding anything but. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, no." Xander clapped his hands together, that's perfect. If we need you we'll..." He looked around wildly, letting out a small humph when Dawn simply shrugged at him.

"Ring," Davies suggested blandly.

"Yes, we'll do that."

Flopping exhaustedly onto another chair, Xander let out a large gust of air. "I'm very confused right now...and this chair is supremely uncomfortable."

Buffy suddenly looked up from her mild trance and remarked, "He called me, Elizabeth."

"Probably because Buffy isn't a name in this day and age," Willow stated.

"What's a ward?" Dawn asked. "And why are we Xanders?"

"Women had to have a guardian of sorts then...now," Willow informed her.

"Once again, just because this all seems a bit...odd, are you sure we haven't just went back?" Buffy asked.

"Positive. There will be dimensions that aren't very different to ours, and somehow we appear to have ended up in one those, and in a different time than what we were in."

"But just to be clear, we can't screw up the timeline of our world?" Xander queried, "Like I dunno, step on a bug and wipe out the polar bears?"

"Not a chance," Willow reassured him. Leaning against the ornate mantelpiece, she shook her head. "I can't believe this. I mean we survive yet another apocalypse, one that blows our home into nothing more than a giant crater and decide we need a holiday to relax, and we end up fighting yet another stupid Demon and wind up here!"

"Well how were we meant to know that Aruba was going to be the home of some ancient talisman and some weirdo demon who wanted to dimension hop?"

"With us it seems to be a safe assumption," Buffy admitted. "Although I had hoped with the whole of the Hellmouth blowing up we'd get a bit of a reprieve."

"I should have went to Hamptons with Kennedy."

"Thought you felt it was too soon to meet the folks?" Xander teased.

"I did, but given the choice between that and being stuck here." She sucked in a hiss of breath between her teeth. "Well let's just say I wouldn't have any problem deciding which one I'd prefer." She frowned before brightening. "I could try a spell."

"I didn't think there was one strong enough," Buffy asked.

"There's bound to be, it's just going to be a question of finding it and whether you're strong enough to make it work."

"Do you think you can do that without, you know, changing your hair colour?" Xander asked.

"I have to try, it might be our only way. I wonder if this Willow has any magical texts." She held out her hand, stating firmly, "Revealio." When nothing moved she sighed and added, "Clearly not."

Xander shifted uncomfortably. "Willow, have you considered that maybe, this Willow isn't magical, and as we've taken there forms..." he tailed off.

"No, I will still be able to perform magic, I can't lose that," she protested, shaking her head. She reached out her hand again, to draw the nearest book to her, to show that she could still perform. Nothing moved. "Oh no," she muttered, bringing her hand closer to her face and staring at it hopelessly. "I think you might have been right." She looked up at friends and asked them desperately, "So what do we do now?"

Buffy got to her feet, automatically brushing down her dress, straightening any would be creases in the material. "We find another way, and until then we make the best of things. Like we always do."


	3. Chapter 3

Tilting her head, Buffy watched in amazement as the serving girl who were slighter than herself, carry in large bucket of hot water and tip it into the large metal basin that was now sitting in the middle of the room. As she stumbled slightly on her feet, correcting herself quickly, Buffy stood up, asking earnestly, "Do you need some help?"

Startled, the girl looked up at her, one stray brown curl escaping from underneath her cap. "I can manage Miss, it's not your place to have to do such tasks."

"But if you're struggling..." Buffy stepped forward, confused when the girl took a cautious step back, shaking her head at her.

"No, Miss," she protested. "Mrs Wells would have my head if she was to find out, and it ain't right." She turned away, pouring the water into the basin before turning back and ducking in a small curtsey, her head still bent as she informed her, "That's it ready, Miss, I'll fetch Sarah to come help you."

"Help me with what?" Buffy asked.

The girl's head shot up for a moment in surprise before ducking again. "To help with your wash."

Buffy's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "I'm quite capable of washing myself. I don't need any help."

"But it's her job," the girl shot back, before continuing in a slight stutter, "My apologies, Miss, it's just how things are done here. I know you might not be used to it."

For a moment, she looked at the serving girl in surprise before realising that she was referring to her being American, and not to her having travelled from another dimension. "You're right," she replied after a minute. "I'm not used to it, and I appreciate all of you being so helpful but I really would much rather wash in private. I shall ring for Sarah when I'm ready," she assured her.

The girl hesitated before replying, "Of course, whatever you want, Miss." She shot her a puzzled look before rushing out of the room, obviously wishing to get as far away from such oddness as quickly as possible.

Letting out a deep sigh, Buffy let the cotton robe fall from her shoulders before sinking into the deep basin. She lounged against the high back of it, letting the warm water lap around her for a few minutes before sitting forward and reaching for the soap. It wasn't quite as fragrant as what she was used to, but as long as it did its job she simply didn't care.

Eventually, when she felt less grimy – dimension hopping seemed to have that effect – she stepped out of the tub, reaching for her towel and wrapping it around herself. Drying herself quickly, she looked around for her underwear. There was clothing laid out neatly on the bed, but apart from the dress, she wasn't sure how to put any of the damn stuff on. Letting out a reluctant sigh, she reached for the string of the bell, pulling it firmly and then quickly shrugged her robe back on, not that her modesty would last for long.

The door to her room opened and the girl she assumed to be Sarah, stepped inside. Well, she called her a girl but she looked to be a few years older than herself. Her dark hair was secured in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, her hands knotted in front of her, resting on the skirt of her plain black dress. She also ducked her head respectfully. "You rang," she stated, her voice soft and low, a slight cockney accent evident. It reminded her of Spike, she realised sadly, although a lot seemed to these days.

Giving herself a shake, Buffy waved her hand over at the clothing on the bed. "I need some help," she admitted reluctantly.

"Of course." Sarah moved swiftly to the bed, her hand drifting reverently over the light blue silk of the elaborate dress that was laid out. "I thought you might like your newest gown for tonight, it is one of your finest and I know how important tonight is."

"Is it?" Buffy queried unthinkingly.

"Of course it is," Sarah replied, looking at her quizzically. "I'm sorry, Miss, I sometimes forget how new you are to our Society, but it is an honour for...newcomers such as yourself to receive an invitation to dine with the elite." She began sorting through the clothing as she continued, "Not that it's the highest tier around, but it's a start."

"A foot in the door," she echoed.

Sarah shot a look over her shoulder. "An American saying?" She queried.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, no matter. I shall make sure you look as pretty as a peach tonight." She shook out a cotton garment, holding it out for Buffy to step into.

Buffy stared at it in horror, this could not possibly be her underwear, it went from shoulder to knee, the neckline was scooped, and the legs of it puffed out slightly. She looked back up at Sarah who watched her expectantly. It didn't appear she was going to have any choice in the matter, so she reluctantly let her robe slither to the ground again and stepped into it. Her eyes shut, trying to block out the fact that another person was dressing her as she felt Sarah deftly fasten up the small hooks up her back.

As she felt her step away, Buffy opened her eyes in time to see that dreaded corset being lined up against her waist. She stifled a groan as Sarah pulled the laces tight, forcing a small breath of air out of her in a gasp. The pictures of the fashion of this time had always looked lovely, but she was beginning to appreciate just how uncomfortable it was to wear it.

* * *

It felt like days before she was ready. She had been primped and preened, her skin powdered perfection, her hair in an even more elaborate coiffure of curls than it had been when she arrived, and her dress was undoubtedly stunning, but she wasn't exactly comfortable.

Moving swiftly down the curved staircase that led into the grand entrance hall, Buffy was relieved to see Xander and Willow standing, waiting. Xander looked every inch the regal gentleman in his black dinner suit, while Willow was in similar garb to hers, and looking a lot less happy about it. "We should be trying to get home," she pointed out the moment Buffy approached them, "Not going out for dinner."

"You never know, it might help, and it wouldn't do any good to draw too much attention to ourselves by acting outside the norm."

"No." Willows shoulders sank slightly, her righteous indignation fading slightly. "I suppose it wouldn't. I just...well I miss it already." She looked around the group. "Although at least I have you guys."

Xander gave her a cheeky grin as he remarked, "I would have thought you'd have loved to have a young female maid helping you with your...personal needs."

Willow slapped his shoulder. "You're disgusting," she told him.

Buffy let out a sudden giggle. "Hang on, if we had maids to help with our every need, does that mean you have a manservant to help with yours?"

Xander shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want to talk about it, and anyway the carriage is here, we should get going."

Willow and Buffy shared an amused look, but followed him out to the waiting vehicle regardless, there was plenty of time to tease him about that later, no matter what dimension they were in.

* * *

Her smile felt as though it were welded onto her face, and the names of all those she had met tonight seemed to fly out of her head the minute they were uttered. It was odd, she mused, that despite all the seemingly polite small talk, she did not feel even slightly welcome here.

Slipping unnoticed out of one group, Buffy made her way through the crowded room, searching for somewhere she could escape to for some fresh air when she heard the words, "Utterly dreadful Americans."

Stopping, she took a step back so that she lurked slightly behind the corner, listening into the group's conversation, trying to remember if she'd met them earlier in the evening – if she had then they certainly hadn't been memorable. It would appear however that they remembered her, she wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted as she continued to listen.

"I don't know why Cranbourne invited them."

There was a small snort. "Well let's just say the Baron is feeling the squeeze of some rather poor investment choices right about now, and we all know that Mr Harris is as rich as Croesus. I believe that he wishes to marry Miss Jane off to him."

"Money does not make up for the absence of good breeding," another woman shuddered. "Anything would be better than marrying an American. I would even forgo a new gown."

"I think it has gone beyond the cost of Miss Jane's clothing."

"I would say from that dreadful dress, that much is obvious," came a cruel retort, followed by a cascade of giggles.

"Still a beautiful gown does not detract from the fact the crassness of those American girls. That Miss Elizabeth seems to have nothing of note to say for herself, not that it's much a loss with that appalling accent of hers."

Buffy felt her spine stiffen at that insult, she had barely been allowed to get a word in edgeways, no doubt so that they wouldn't have to listen to her 'appalling' accent. Her fists clenched, oh but she was tempted to knock them into next week. She'd just taken one step forward when she heard one remark, "It's bad enough that we have to listen to William's twaddle, never mind having to put up with Americans."

"At least we haven't been subjected to his poetry of late. You know they call him William the Bloody, because it's so bloody awful."

Buffy heard them burst into peals of cruel laughter again, but she was no longer listening. William the Bloody...Spike. Could it be possible? She knew he'd been turned in 1880, but she'd never even thought...not even when she'd heard the year. He would be human, she thought wildly. He would be the man and not the monster and apparently the man wrote poetry. Her lips quirked, she could imagine that somehow, even before he'd regained his soul he had been overly romantic, especially for a demon. She had to find him, had to see him, even if it was only once.

She turned away, the taunts of her supposed peers long forgotten. The dinner bell would ring soon, and if he was here she would see him there, but she didn't want to wait, she felt as though she had waited long enough.

Buffy stepped neatly around the crowds, ignoring waiters and their trays of aperitifs as she scoured the room, looking for him. Until finally, there he was, firmly ensconced in a corner, paying no attention to those around him, as he scribbled into a small notebook.

Stopping in her tracks, Buffy stared at him, he looked so unlike himself. His hair flopped over his face, light brown in colour rather than the peroxide blonde she'd come to know so well. His skin was rosier but his cheekbones were just as striking. The blue eyes that seemed to see through her at times she couldn't see, he was so engrossed in his work.

Her heart seemed to beat in her throat as she took small steps forward, a plan forming in her mind as she did so. He didn't seem to notice her until she was seated next to him on the small sofa. He looked up with a jerk, his cheeks flushing pink as he quickly tucked his scribbling into the inside pocket of his coat. Buffy gave him a small smile, her voice catching slightly as she stared into his blue eyes, the eyes that were no different from the ones she'd stared into so many times before. "I hope you don't mind me sitting here, it just seems so quiet and I thought it would be nice to escape from the noise, at least for a little while."

"No, no of course not," he replied, and she was surprised to hear his obviously upper class accent, not that it was unpleasant. His hands twitched with what looked like nerves and he added, "I shall of course leave you to your solitude, I would hate to intrude."

Buffy reached out desperately, unthinkingly reaching for his hand as she protested, "No! Don't go."

William stopped, looking at her in shock. "Sorry?" He queried anxiously.

Mentally cursing herself, Buffy told him, "I didn't mean to send you away...I thought we could sit together."

"Sit together?" He echoed.

That was probably horribly inappropriate here, but she didn't care. "Yes, I would hate to think I'd scared you away, after all you were here first." He still looked unsure and so she continued, "Would it help if I was to introduce myself?" She held out her hand. "I'm Bu...Elizabeth Summers."

For a moment he stared at her hand, his mouth twitching in amusement as he finally took it, his skin warm against hers, his grip firm. "Mr William Pratt." His gaze scanned over her face, his eyes intense as they locked onto hers. For a moment she was back in the basement of the school, staring into his eyes as they'd realised they'd reached the end. Suddenly he gave a small cough, his hand slipping from hers as he blushed slightly. "So...you must be one of Mr Harris's wards?"

"How did you know?"

"Well there aren't many Americans in our circle." He smiled at her pleasantly. "It must be quite a change of pace for you, coming to provincial England."

"You could say that," Buffy admitted. She nodded towards his jacket pocket. "I hope I didn't interrupt you, you looked busy."

His cheeks went pink again - she could not believe that she was sitting here watching Spike blush – as he waved his hand dismissively, "Just some scribblings, and not very good ones if I'm honest."

"So why do you do it?"

"Because I enjoy it, the world would be a much bleaker place if we sacrificed our enjoyment just because we weren't particularly good at something."

"I suppose," Buffy replied. It was odd, he was Spike and yet not Spike, he lacked the dangerous edge he'd always had, but that same intensity and romanticism was still present. It was still oddly compelling.

"But I'm sure that you don't want to have to spend your evening in a corner conversing with me when you could be enjoying yourself."

"I'm happier here," she admitted, surprising herself slightly. "No-one's been very nice so far."

"Our peers do not appreciate that differences are what make people interesting."

"You could say that." Buffy rolled her eyes. "They called my accent appalling."

"Well I find it quite delightful." As she looked at him in surprise, he cleared his throat and added, "I'm very sorry, that was completely inappropriate."

"No less so than calling it appalling, and it's certainly much nicer than what they said." She resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, to check that he was really there.

"Well...yes...I..." He stumbled over his words before falling quiet.

Buffy shuffled her hands together. She had the oddest compulsion to shake him, to bring out the real Spike, and yet he was the real Spike, he was the man she'd always wanted him to be. She bit down on her bottom lip, she really was never happy. She looked up again and her thoughts skittered at his pained expression, she'd seen that look so many times before, and that was when she realised that the Spike she'd known and this William were no different, just William had had no reason to develop a thick skin and his show of bravado.

She heard the sound of a gong reverberate through the room, and once again deciding that propriety held no appeal for her, asked him quickly, "Would you accompany me through to the dining room?"

A smile broke across his face, lighting up his eyes as he got to his feet and held out his arm. "I would be delighted."


End file.
